


Dream 1, Act I: Prelude

by Araesson, Arlewena



Series: A Dream Within A Dream [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Buckle Your Seatbelts and Get Ready For a Long Ride, F/M, Feliciano Replaces Bilbo Baggins, Hobbit Culture & Customs, M/M, Mentions of Germany/North Italy, Past HRE/North Italy, Pre-The Hobbit, Random Assortment of Ancients, Someone Call the Character Abuse Hotline, The Ancients Are Up To Something, The Mongols - Teenage Lord of Sarcasm, Tooks, We Reached Into A Bag And Picked A Random Color, What is the point of horror without the guts?!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-02-12 19:04:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12966303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Araesson/pseuds/Araesson, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlewena/pseuds/Arlewena
Summary: When Feliciano Vargas opened his eyes and saw the Holy Roman Empire again, this had not been what he'd expected would come after. Cut off from nearly everything he has ever known in a new, strange world, he is uncertain and lonely. He wishes they would just tell him in clear terms what they wanted him to do. For now, however, he is left playing the guessing game as he attempts to carve out his own place in Middle Earth.





	1. 1:00 AM, September 22 TA 2890

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Salutations. We welcome you to our new, improved character torture method!-- I mean story! Prepare your tissues, it's going to be a long, painful ride, and it only gets worse as it goes on. Never think you've seen the worst. Ever.  
> Before we let you begin, we have a few musical suggestions to improve your reading experience. As we've written this, we've given each character and some events their own theme song as it were. Below is a list of songs relevant to this chapter, and at the end we will add an updating list of songs for this installment.  
> Disclaimer: Nothing is ours, except the tears we cried during Nanowrimo.  
> Edit 11/18/18: We decided to change how we were doing the songs since it got a bit unwieldy. 
> 
> Chapter Playlist:  
> A Nostalgic Dream - Peter Gundry (Holy Rome's theme)  
> Autumn's Child - Peter Gundry (Bungo and Belladonna Baggins)

**September 22, TA 2890**

_Feliciano (The Shire):_

 

The sun shone down upon the meadow, warming Veneziano's face. A gentle puff of breeze brought with it the scent of warm grass and flowers, ruffling his dress. He held the fabric between his fingers, smiling as he recalled that this used to be one of his favorite outfits.

He looked up at the sound of a voice calling his name, letting out a gasp as his memory told him who the voice belonged to. But it couldn't be--

"Italy!" Holy Rome was running through the meadow towards Italy, his black cape billowing behind him. It was undeniably the same person. He had the same hair, and eyes, and the same smile. Italy stared, eyes wide with disbelief. His right foot moved forward, and then his left, and then he was running to meet his first love. Italy threw his arms around Holy Rome, tears streaming down his face as he clutched the familiar fabric in his fingers. Holy Rome laughed-- the most amazing sound Italy had ever heard.

Italy finally pulled away, drinking in the familiar face that looked the same as it had when Italy had last seen him. He realized that he was the same height, suggesting he was young again, too, but that realization wasn't important.

"You're here." Italy whispered, reaching forward to touch Holy Rome's face to ensure it was real. Feeling warm skin under his fingers, he smiled. "It's you."

"I've missed you, Italy." Holy Rome said, gently taking one of Italy's hands.

Italy wrapped his arms around Holy Rome again, muffling his tears against his chest, "I've missed you too. I've missed you so much."

"I'm sorry I broke my promise." Holy Rome said after a moment of silence, "I'm sorry I didn't come back."

Italy shook his head, "But you're here now."

"Yes, but… we don't have much time. I hate to ask this of you… There's something I need you to do. I'm sorry, but I need you to be strong, Italy… I know you can do it." Holy Rome replied, pulling away from Italy's embrace. There was a sadness in his voice and expression, a true remorse.

Italy was confused, "You're leaving again? What do you need me to do?... You’re not making any sense." Holy Rome didn't answer, gently pushing a few strands of hair back from Italy's face, and wiping the last tears away with his thumbs.

"I know. Italy…" Holy Rome trailed off as Italy's vision began to blur, the meadow around them becoming fuzzy. "Italy, I believe in you."

The edges of Holy Rome's face were fading, "Wait--" and Italy's vision went dark.  


* * *

When his vision returned, he was in a meadow similar to the one he'd just been in, and Holy Rome was gone. Italy felt tears at the corners of his eyes, as he said, "Holy Rome?..." in a voice higher than his normal one. There was no response but the rustling of a nearby tree.

Had it been a dream? But he was still in his old dress, and he was still younger. Where had Holy Rome gone? Had he left him again? Would he come back?

Italy didn't realize that he'd been crying again until the woman's voice broke through his thoughts. "Are you alright, child?" He looked up to see a very short, stout woman. He would have thought she was a child by her height if not for the very clearly womanly figure.  
"Bella…" Italy mumbled, entranced. She was beautiful, like a fairy almost, or what he'd imagine one to look like (except without the wings).

The woman appeared confused as she approached, "I'm Belladonna, yes. Belladonna Too- sorry, Baggins. Belladonna Baggins, how did you know?"

"Oh, that's a beautiful name! I didn't know, I was just remarking on how lovely you are! You're so pretty, you know. I see lots of pretty girls, but you are much prettier!" Italy exclaimed, momentarily forgetting about Holy Rome in the face of this distraction.

The woman kneeled down to be at eye level with him, asking, "What is your name, child?"

"I--" Veneziano stopped himself. No matter how gorgeous she might be, she wasn't a fellow nation. "Oh, I haven't introduced myself, have I! Ciao, I'm Feliciano Vargas, from Italy! I love pasta and pretty girls! And Ludwig. Also I love my big brothers Francis, Antonio, and Lovino! My friend Kiku is pretty cool, too!" He took the moment to wipe his cheeks of moisture, his smile wide and convincing enough to make anyone forget his earlier distress with the absence of the tears.

"Is this Italy your home? Where is it?" Belladonna asked.

Italy blinked a few times, "You've never heard of Italy? I thought everyone knew Italy, because of the Roman Empire and all. Do you know where the Mediterranean Sea is?" Belladonna shook her head, "Europe?" Another shake of the head. "Not even Europe? Well that's weird! Do you come from another planet or something? My friend knows an alien."

Belladonna appeared to be a bit bemused by his rapid-fire comments, "Do you have any family I can take you to?"

"Well, I have my brothers, but if you don't know where Europe is I don't think we can find them. They'll probably find me, if Ger-- Ludwig doesn't come for me first." Veneziano said, looking around at the scenery to see if Germany had found him yet. Belladonna, meanwhile, pursed her lips, appearing to be thinking over something. Italy wasn't too troubled by it. She would tell him, probably. And if not, it wasn't important.

"Do you have anywhere to stay? It's going to get dark soon, and it's best you aren't out after sunset, even if this area is peaceful." Miss Belladonna advised, glancing up at the sky and the sun that was hovering over the edge of the horizon. Veneziano shook his head. He had no idea where he was, and if any nations were nearby. Even if they were, not every nation would welcome the personification of northern Italy turning up on their doorstep with no warning. Besides, Miss Bella was pretty and kind, and it sounded as if she was about to invite him to stay with her. Feliciano would never turn down an invitation from a beautiful woman-- his brothers and grandfather had taught him much better than that!

Belladonna smiled, standing up and dusting off her green dress, "Well, you can stay with Bungo and I until your family comes for you."

"Thank you, Miss Belladonna! I would love to stay with you! Do you by any chance know how to make pasta?" Italy asked, bouncing on his feet.

"No, I'm afraid not. However, perhaps you can describe it to me and we can figure something out,” she looked down at him and winked, extending a hand in his direction, “Come on, then. Bungo is going to wonder where I've run off to." she replied, beginning to walk with Veneziano toddling along after her, hands firmly grasped.

After a while of walking, longer than Veneziano would normally prefer, they finally came in sight of what Miss Bella called ‘The Hill’. It seemed very much like all the other hills they had passed to the personification of Northern Italy, maybe a little larger. He wasn’t sure what was supposed to be so special about it, but he was willing to go with it for now. Especially if it meant food was in his near future. He was hungry, and even if they didn’t have pasta, Miss Bella had said that Bungo- what a funny name- would probably have food ready when they got there.

He was led to a circular door in the side of the hill, a small circular window beside it. He’d never seen such architecture before, and found it quite fascinating. Feliciano noticed that Belladonna was smiling as they entered.

Inside, a man the same height as Belladonna looked up from a book. His eyes widened a touch when he saw Italy holding Belladonna’s hand. The man-- Bungo, likely-- looked from Italy Veneziano, to Belladonna, and back, before sighing.

Bungo’s tone was resigned, even though he was smiling a touch as he asked, “... Should I set the table for three, then, dear?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your time! Feedback is appreciated.


	2. 1:00 AM, September 30 TA 2890

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit 11/18/18: This chapter has been rewritten to add in minor details as well as not be so terrible in general. XD 
> 
> Chapter Playlist:  
> Autumn's Child - Peter Gundry (Bungo and Belladonna Baggins)  
> Victory or Death - Louis Viallet (Rome's theme)  
> Fire Elemental - Derek and Brandon Fiechter (Phoenicia's theme)

**September 30, TA 2890**

_ Feliciano (Hobbiton): _

 

A week passed. 

Over this week, Feliciano saw no sign of Germany, or any of his brothers from home. It was strange, being without them. He would turn to comment something to Germany only to realize he wasn’t there. 

Nonetheless, he found he still enjoyed himself. Miss Bella and Mr. Bungo were so kind to him, willing to show him around and offer him their home and food without seeming to think about it. Mr. Bungo had responsibilities that kept him busy some days, but he was always willing to tell stories. Miss Bella seemed to enjoy showing Feliciano around and introducing him to those she had befriended since moving to Hobbiton. Miss Bella originally came from Tookland, south of Hobbiton, where she had lived with many siblings and her parents. Her father was apparently a hobbit of important standing, something called the Thain.

Feliciano found the Shire comfortable, despite the fact that he had never before heard of such a place, or even such a people. He found Hobbits similar to the many people he had known before. Their culture was a bit different, not that he felt he had too firm a grasp on it. On the surface they seemed to value peace, a simple unchanging life, and plenty of food. He found himself fitting in well enough with them, for all he saw many of them give him mistrusting looks and heard the whispers of ‘outsider’ follow him as he passed. He appeared as a child, so for the most part people were friendly to him, but there were still those who seemed surprised that Miss Bella and Mr. Bungo had decided to allow him to stay with them. 

He was able to gather that hobbits not only mistrusted outsiders, but that they were never seen so far in the heart of the Shire. Feliciano wondered how they managed that when they seemed to be a prosperous people. The Shire was perhaps not any sort of economic powerhouse, but the land was rich and produced enough food to allow hobbits to consume seven meals a day. 

The custom was strange, but Mr. Bungo and Miss Bella seemed to understand that he was unused to so many meals. He found himself eating three of those meals-- the ones correlating to those he was used to-- and snacking for any of the others, just so that he was not merely watching the two adult hobbits eat. The fact he had always been a big eater made it a little easier. 

Overall, Feliciano was in high spirits for all he was a little confused as to where in the wide world he was. The only real deviation from that had come the very first night. 

He had been trying to drift off to sleep. Feliciano could acutely feel the absence of warmth and any sort of presence at his side where Germany, or something Romano would be. The absence made Feliciano feel very lonely. 

Feliciano tried to ignore the feeling, instead reaching inside to the connection to his people and brother. It was what he had always done when he had been feeling particularly alone, to remind himself that really, he never was alone at all. 

But it didn’t work this time, due to a horrible realization. He somehow hadn’t noticed due to the excitement and strangeness of the day, but he could no longer feel the bond to his people or to Romano. There was no sign of damage, no pain of separation, only emptiness. 

Panicked, Italy Veneziano screamed. He curled in on himself, his hands going to his chest and pressing down as if he could somehow find where the bond had gone. But there was nothing there. He really  _ was,  _ for the first time, truly alone. He had been missing a part of himself, perhaps since he had first woken up in the Shire. To make it worse, he had no one to sooth his fears. There was no Germany and no Romano. 

 However, h e did have Bungo and Belladonna Baggins. They’d come running to the guest room, awoken by his shout. He babbled to them incoherently as Miss Bella ran her fingers through his hair and Mr. Bungo whispered soothing words that he could not grasp the meaning of. 

It had taken some time for him to calm down, for the tears to stop and his heart to slow down once more. It took even longer for him to go to sleep that night. He had begged Bungo and Belladonna not to leave him alone, and they didn’t. They sat on either side of him, and finally he fell to sleep.

That night, he dreamed. He was wrapped in Grandpa Rome’s embrace. Italy held him just as tightly, breathing in the scent he had nearly forgotten of metal and the hint of the sea breeze. 

“It’s been some time, hasn’t it, my little grandson?” Rome murmured after long minutes of silence, where they had merely held onto one another as if afraid to ever let go. Italy Veneziano nodded against his grandfather’s shoulder, not willing to move away.

Grandpa Rome chuckled and pulled away, then he set Italy down on his feet. They were both silent for several moments, staring at one another. Grandpa Rome seemed to be looking for something, though Feliciano wasn’t sure what. 

At last, his grandfather sighed, “You have some hard times ahead of you. But remember, you are my grandson and my legacy. You are strong enough to face your challenge. All of us think you are. But if you are ever in need of us, all you have to do is call.” Rome smiled warmly.

“What?” Italy Veneziano asked, “I don’t understand. You’re talking like… like Holy Rome was. But it doesn’t make sense. What is coming? Why am I in the Shire? Where is everyone else?” 

“You mean your brothers and that Germany?” Rome questioned with a raised eyebrow. He shook his head, “They are not in this world. Beyond that, I cannot say for certain. You will have to discover for yourself what awaits you and face it. We will give you what help we can, but unfortunately we are rather limited. It is a bother, but we did manage to bring you here and set things up. But doing that has weakened our power for now.”

Italy frowned and inquired, “Power? What do you mean? Who are the others you mentioned?” 

“You’ll meet them soon enough; do not worry about it. You still have time.” Grandpa Rome replied. Then he paused, tilting his head to the side as if considering something, or else trying to hear something far off. 

Rome looked back to Italy with an apology in his expression, “It looks like we’re out of time. Until next time, my darling grandson!” And then there was a flash of light.

Then there was only blissful, dreamless sleep.

 

Feliciano was quickly settling into a routine in his life at Hobbiton. He would eat breakfast with Bungo and Belladonna, and then he would spend most of the day with Belladonna. They would go walking down roads, playing in fields, or go shopping in the markets, greeting everyone they passed. At some point they would have lunch, outside if the weather was good. Then they would come home with the products of their explorations and regale Bungo with the tales of the day. 

Then would come dinner preparations. Both Bagginses could cook, though Feliciano found Bungo to possess slightly better skill for it. Miss Bella tended to become distracted, or decide to add something entirely new in on impulse. Not that it always turned out bad-- in fact, with her help he had managed to find ways to begin recreating some of his favorite tastes from home. Without all of the proper ingredients, he hadn’t managed it quite yet, but perhaps that would change. There were other markets to explore, after all. 

When it came time for bed, Mr. Bungo and Miss Bella would sit with him. Sometimes Bungo would find a storybook and read him tales of far off lands, kings, elves, and dwarves. Others, Miss Bella would sing one of the lullabies she knew. Her voice was lovely, but Feliciano especially liked it when Bungo joined in. His voice was softer and deeper, and it made a perfect contrast to Miss Bella’s soaring soprano. 

With no sign of Feliciano’s family, it appeared he would be staying for some time yet. Feliciano missed them fiercely, but he was sure Romano would be able to look after things at home so he tried not to worry about what those he had left behind were getting up to. Germany would find him soon, as he always did, and while Italy waited he would enjoy the Shire and his new friends. 

Seeming to realize that Feliciano would become a fixture in their life as well-- and even if he was found again, he would undoubtedly at least attempt to visit them again-- Bungo asked that morning, “Should I revise the plans for our new home to accommodate the height of a full grown Big Person?” 

The three exchanged looks. No words needed to be said. Bungo simply sighed and headed to his study to begin to revise the plans for their new house. 

 

That night, in Feliciano’s dreams, he found himself in a pavilion of white stone overlooks a sparkling blue ocean. There were flowers of gold, red, orange, and yellow lining the walkways, with stone braisers keeping the path well lit. The sky was dark, but filled with the light of the stars and crescent moon. A few small birds flew by his head, making their way to the shore. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw small animals, but every time he turned to look they fled on nimble feet. 

“Enjoying the view? It is one of my personal favorites.” the almost familiar voice drew his attention to a woman making her way down the path towards him. As he looked at her, he came to realize that she was something more than just a woman, perhaps even more than just a nation. Her eyes were intense and catlike, the color of gold. Her skin was bronzed and her hair was a tangle of chocolate brown curls. Everything about her seemed to call to mind a flame, from her bearing, her eyes, and the light dress she wore. Her feet were bare of any shoes. 

It was perhaps because he appearance had changed over the years that it took him some time to recognize the woman. She was Phoenicia, a trading empire of his youth that had long since faded into nothing but memory. He had not thought of her in years. 

At last, he nodded and glanced back to the sea. “It is rather wonderful. You’re Phoenicia, aren’t you? I remember you from when I was little! You gave me, Romano, Greece, and Spain lessons when we were young.” There were others, too, of course, but he remembered most vividly sitting near them-- him and Romano being so young, with Greece appearing little older and Spain quickly growing to look years older. 

Phoenicia’s laugh crackled with warmth and life as she replied, “So you  _ do  _ remember, I was wondering if you would. It was a long time ago for both of us. Well, you might not have been the best student but you learned well, so I suppose I made enough of an impression to be remembered by.” 

“So, um… I’m assuming you’re like Holy Rome and Grandpa-- you are, aren’t you?” at his question, she nodded, and then he continued. “Holy Rome said something about some sort of task I need to do. Can you tell me what it is, or at least more about it? No one was very clear on it, you see. Also, do you know when I can go home? Everyone is surely missing me by now. Romano’s going to be really worried, and I hate it when he worries! He gets mad and starts yelling, but then he starts crying sometimes too, and it’s really upsetting! I don’t like it when he’s sad. I want him to be happy!” He was hoping that his old mentor would be more forthcoming than the other two had been. 

Phoenicia’s mouth twisted for a moment. “We can’t tell you too much. It is your quest. We cannot give you all of the answers at the start of it, nor are we allowed to meddle too much in the affairs of the world. You will know your quest when you meet it. But you still have time. Enjoy yourself. Make friends. Build a new life. Forge connections. However, never forget that there is a difficult task awaiting you. You must be ready to face it. You might not know what to expect, but that does not mean you cannot come as prepared as possible. You know nothing about this world, correct? You could, for instance, look into more about the world you are in.” 

“Okay. But you still haven’t answered my other question.” Italy pointed out, slightly hesitant. He wasn’t sure, but he thought she might have avoided the question. 

The woman sighed. “I… Someone else would be more suited to tell you this, but… There is no way back. There exists but one path, and it leads to this world and not back.” As his face froze, his mind struggling to comprehend that statement, the woman’s expression became harder. “Do not despair. This does not mean we have left you alone with nothing. We are not so heartless.” 

“But what about my land? My people? What will Romano do without me? What will  _ I  _ do? Am I still a nation at all? What  _ am  _ I, then? Why am I here? What is so important that I have to forsake my life?! What will happen to them, will they die? What about everyone I left?! What about Germany, and Japan, and Spain, and-- and France, and Austria, and Hungary, an--” His eyes welled up with tears and they spilled freely to his cheeks. His mind was in a state of panic. Not ever go back? How could he not go back home? Why would they do this to him? His breath was beginning to come in quicker and quicker gasps. He had already realized his connection to his land was missing, but he had managed to push it aside. Italy had just thought that he would go back and everything would be okay. That Germany or Romano would come find him and take him home. 

“Calm  _ down.”  _ Phoenicia commanded, placing a hand on his shoulder. Her voice was firm, but there was still something gentle in it. “Do not let this defeat you before you even begin. There is more to you than your land and people. Your grandfather has spoken highly of you, and I know that there is strength in you. I have seen it for myself. Do not prove me, your grandfather, and Ma-- Holy Rome wrong.” 

He lip quivered as he wiped tears from his cheeks. “You say there is more of me, but what is it? What am I without Italy? Who am I?” 

“You have always been more than your country, just as I am more than my old empire.” Phoenicia replied. “Do you not think that we had similar thoughts when our nations died? There will be days where it is difficult to accept, but you will live and become stronger. You will become  _ more.”  _ A light seemed to rise in her eyes, a strange glow to her skin. He felt warmth rush through his veins. “This is not the future I would have wished for you, or any of those I care for. But this is the path you are on now, and you will find your strength. You’ve kept it buried for some time now. But no longer.” 

Her words lit something in his heart. It was small, overshadowed by his panic, but he wondered if perhaps she was right. That he truly was something more and he had just never realized it. 

The ancient nation turned her head and sighed. “Our time is up. You must leave now, before I get myself into trouble. I’ve kept you from sleep long enough.” 

Italy-- well, not Italy, it would have to be Feliciano now that he was no longer Italy Veneziano-- gave a hesitant nod. “Okay. Will I see you again?” 

“Of course. Call for us and we will come.” she replied, the glow to her fading though her eyes still glittered. “Now off you do!” 

The dream faded from his sight, and he returned to deep sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anything making sense yet? Thank you for your time!


	3. 1:00 AM, February 4 TA 2891

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is having a swell day. 
> 
> Chapter Playlist:   
> Bad Apple - Ashe and Rockleetist (Feliciano/ North Italy's theme)  
> Nyx - Derek and Brandon Fiechter (Byzantium's theme)  
> Autumn's Child - Peter Gundry (Bungo and Belladonna Baggins)  
> Poseidon - Derek and Brandon Fiechter (Carthage's theme)

**February 4, TA 2891**

_ Feliciano (Hobbiton):  _

Autumn faded into mild winter. In that time, Feliciano slowly resigned himself to his fate, and got better about hiding his grief over losing everything he’d ever known. Belladonna and Bungo watched him carefully, and did their best to cheer him up, but they could not understand entirely what he was going through. To them, he was only a child who feared never seeing his family again. In reality, it was much more than that. He had more than a family, he had a life, a history, and people who depended on him. He had a stretch of land that was his identity. Now he had confirmation that he would never see any of the things he held dear again. All he had was a vain, desperate hope that maybe Germany would find him, and maybe if he was lucky his brothers would have tagged along, but considering that all of his brothers barring Spain seemed to disapprove of Germany and his relationship with Italy (though France grudgingly accepted it, since they truly loved each other and he was a sucker for a good romance), Italy found that hope was not high. Everything else, his brothers, his people, his mountains, his shores-- he would never return to.

And for what, he wondered in his more bitter moments. For some vague ‘quest’ in his future that he had to fulfill? Why did he have to do it? Was it really so important? 

In the Shire, he became a prime topic of gossip among the locals. Many of them looked at him with raised eyebrows and distrust, but there were some who did not. The gardener was kind, and Belladonna’s father, as well as the rest of her family, treated him as one of their own almost immediately. From what he’d gathered, the Tooks were somewhat odd for Hobbits, but odd didn’t seem bad to him, at least not when it came to the Tooks. 

Bungo and Belladonna encouraged him to play with the other children, to be a child. While some children laughed at him and refused to play, many others were more than happy to show him how to play their games. 

It was… pleasant. His own childhood had been rather odd. His early years were relatively normal, happy, but once Rome was gone he’d had to learn to defend himself in a world seeking to conquer what was his, to take his money and his people and burn his beautiful home to ash. To be a child again, to pretend as if he had no worries beyond the trivial, childish ones even if only for a moment allowed him to ignore the ache where his bond to his people once was.

That night when he fell asleep, he dreamed once more. He was sitting in a comfortable chair, in what appeared to be some sort of library, or a laboratory. Beside him were several bookcases, filled with books, as well as the occasional flask. There were a few tables in the middle of the room, where he saw many delicate instruments and loose pages. 

It must be another one of those dreams, he decided. Feliciano wondered who it would be this time. 

He didn’t have to wait much longer for an answer. The door opened, and a woman crept inside, closing the door gently behind her. Her hair was black at first glance, but on further inspection it was actually a very dark teal. It was kept in twin braids. Her eyes were sea green and wide, almost sad he thought. She wore a sleeveless white, blue, and teal dress of a light material that floated, and only the smallest bits of golden jewelry to accent it. He was interested to note that she was barefoot. On her forearms and cheeks were bright sea green tattoos that glowed slightly, like the circlet in her hair.

It did not take him long to place her, despite the change in her appearance. “You’re the Byzantine Empire?” 

She gave him the barest hint of a smile, “Hello. It has been some time, has it not?” Gracefully, the nation sat in the seat placed across from his own. He had forgotten the way in which she’d always moved with such fluid and unhasty grace. 

“You look different.” Feliciano noted, “Not that it’s bad! You look wonderful, beautiful, absolutely marvelous of course! It’s just odd, because now that I think about it Phoenicia did, too, and I think Grandpa was a bit different as well, though not as much, really, just a teensie bit.” 

The nation that was once the Byzantine Empire, and before that Macedonia, tilted her head slightly in thought, “Yes, I suppose I do look different than I used to. I had not really thought about it. Much time has gone by since those days.” The woman paused, then asked, in her serene voice, “Tell me, how is my son? I have heard he was not doing so well, but we don’t receive much news of our old world here.” 

It took Feliciano a moment, but then he recalled: Greece was her son. “Oh, yes, he was going through some hard times, but he was happy, I think. He spends a lot of time with my friend Japan, and I think Romano visits him occasionally, too. He doesn’t really complain much, you know?”

“I see.” Macedonia replied. He could not read what she thought of this news in her expression. “My sister told me you had not taken the news that you would not be returning to our old world well. You seem better adjusted now, but you aren’t, not really, are you?” 

Feliciano paused, before shaking his head, “No, I guess not. I just… miss everyone, you know? I didn’t even… didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to Germany. Or to Romano. They’re going to be so, so sad.” a few tears fell from his eyes and to his lap, but he had never been ashamed to cry and did not bother hiding them. “And they won’t know what happened, will they? Where I’ve gone?” 

“They will know where you are.” Byzantium said. “I know you feel alone, but you will not feel so forever. All things pass, one way or another.” 

* * *

 

**April 11, TA 2891**

_ Feliciano (Hobbiton):  _

It was a rainy day in early spring when they finally crafted a pot of pasta up to Italy Veneziano’s standards. In an overly dramatic display, Miss Bella presented him with a forkful, and he just as dramatically tasted it. A smile broke on his face. It tasted perfect, just as it had when he and Romano had first perfected their recipe. 

“Thank you.” he said, and then he began to cry. He could almost hear Romano, gruff, loud, harsh, but still so protective. 

“There now, don’t cry.” Bungo said softly, taking the fork from him and setting it down. 

Feliciano sniffed, wiping the tears from his cheeks, “I’m sorry. I just… I miss my fratello, well, brother, Lovino. We created this recipe together, you know? Pasta just isn’t the same without, without…” he closed his eyes as more tears leaked. 

He felt Belladonna pick him up, carrying him over to her favorite chair and sitting him in her lap, as Bungo sat in his own chair. “Tell me about your brother.” 

“He was-- well, he was always very loud. He was very protective of me. He didn’t make friends easily, and I think he was lonely, sometimes. He could be a bit of a jerk sometimes too, but in a way that was how he showed he cared. He wasn’t very good at expressing his real feelings.” Feliciano answered. “He looked a lot like me, except his hair was darker and his curl was on the other side. He spent a lot of time with our other brother, Antonio, and always called him an idiot but I think he just didn’t know how to say he loved him.” 

Belladonna hummed, and said, “I’m sure he is looking for you, right now, wherever he is. And while we wait, we can eat that delicious pasta of yours.” 

Feliciano wiped his eyes again, and smiled. “Lovi would be happy that you like it.” He followed after Miss Bella and Bungo, and for the first time in months, enjoyed true Italian pasta. 

Was Romano at home, perhaps, eating his own plate of pasta and thinking of Italy? 

He went to sleep not long after, stomach full of pasta and feeling like a little piece of home was with him. Feliciano dreamed he was floating underwater. It wasn’t a bad dream-- he wasn’t drowning at all. Breathing came as easily as if he was above the water.

Why was he under the water?

“I find that I am much more comfortable under the water these days than in air.” said a deep, soothing voice. Feliciano twisted around and saw what appeared to be a merman, though his tail was more serpentine than the usual portrayal of a merman. His hair was a messy mop of ocean blue curls that floated around his head. His eyes were a sleepy navy blue. There were tattoos beside his eyes in a dark teal.

“Do you remember me?” the merman asked with a slight tilt of his head. “My sisters said you recalled them. Though to be fair, you interacted with them more than I, and I suppose I am quite… different from the Carthage you would remember.” 

Carthage?! Feliciano supposed he could see it, in the small details, but he had changed much more than either Macedonia and Phoenicia. 

Feliciano was silent for some moments, looking for the similarities between the Carthage he barely remembered and the sea-creature before him. Finally, he asked, “Ve~ Why are you more comfortable under the water?” Well, perhaps it was his new form, though Feliciano didn’t know what had come first. 

“Our domains affect us, just as we affect them. Some more visibly than others.” he said, as if that explained something. 

“Domain?” Feliciano repeated. How was talking to Carthage more confusing than even Grandpa Rome had been? 

Carthage hummed, and then said, “In absence of lands and people, we took on domains.” That still was not much of an explanation. “But are these the questions you really desire answers to? I’m afraid our time is rather limited, as we are still recovering and much of our energy is put towards ensuring things go smoothly.” 

Feliciano did not know where to start, or if he would even be able to decipher the answers he received. This man reminded him a little of Greece, except he’d learned how to interpret Greece better. There was also something else that this nation reminded him of… someone…

“Is everyone back home okay? Do you know? Can you tell me?” Feliciano asked. He remembered that Macedonia had asked him about Greece, but he still wanted to make sure. 

“I’m afraid I do not know. However, I am sure they are doing quite well. They are nations, and nations are strong. There is little that can truly harm them, and there are so many more of them now, aren’t there? They can support one another through their trials. There is little need to worry for them.” Spain! That’s who Carthage reminded Feliciano of! 

Feliciano let out a little bubble of laughter, “You remind me a lot of my brother Spain! And Greece, too.” 

“Well, they are both my nephews, I suppose.” the older nation replied. “It is good that they took after me in some way. Their mothers can be quite… much.” 

“~Ve, but they’re always so nice to me. Well, I guess you’ve talked to them more recently than I have.” Italy said. 

Carthage nodded, and then said, “You must return to your home, now. It has been nice having you as a guest.” 

“Oh, well, thank you for having me.” Feliciano said uncertainly. With a wave of Carthage’s hand, the water around him rippled, and then faded from his sight. The dream was over, and he quickly returned to normal, undisturbed sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have had a little too much fun writing Carthage.


	4. 1:00 AM, May 15 TA 2891

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter required a bit more thought than the previous ones, so it took slightly longer. We suddenly realized we had a wonderful opportunity to set up later events, only we didn't know quite how to go about it. Even so, it was quite fun. Wonderful plans are in the works! You're probably going to forget all about it by the time we get there though!
> 
> Chapter Playlist:   
> Autumn's Child - Peter Gundry (Bungo and Belladonna Baggins)  
> Seelie Court - Derek and Brandon Fiechter (The Took Clan)  
> Dance of the Fairies - Derek Fiechter (The Chubb Clan)  
> The Hooded Man - Peter Gundry (Gandalf's theme)  
> The Hunt - BrunuhVille (Magyar's theme)

**May 15, TA 2891**

_ Feliciano (Tookland):  _

 

The ex-nation let out a high-pitched giggle as Bungo and Belladonna swung him between them as they made their way down the road. It was a pleasant spring morning, the smells of new growth thick in the air. 

The day was a special one-- it was Gerontius Took’s 101st birthday, and the party was to be splendid by all accounts. There was even a rumor that there would be the special fireworks sometimes seen during previous birthdays. Feliciano was excited to see what the party would be like, since he had not seen any parties so far during his time in the Shire and he looked forward to seeing how they were different from those back home. 

“Ve~ Miss Bella, how many people are going to be there?” Feliciano asked, bouncing on his toes. 

“Quite a number.” Belladonna answered, “The entire family will be there, of course, and likely many hobbits of importance. My mother would have insisted on it.” Feliciano remembered meeting Belladonna’s mother, Adamanta Took. The older hobbit was in her eighties, and was quite mischievous but very well respected within the family. She’d declared Feliciano an honorary Took, and with that every Took treated him as a young nephew of sorts. 

Then, Bungo added, “I heard Gandalf should be there this year, too.” At this remark, Belladonna’s face brightened with a huge smile. 

“It would be lovely if he was. He hasn’t visited in some time, I was wondering if he ever planned to come back. If he’s there we’ll have to introduce you to him, Feliciano.” Belladonna said. Feliciano nodded in acceptance to that idea, and began to count the number of creatures he saw run past as they continued south. 

It took some time to reach the Great Smials, outside of which the party was to be held. Already, much of the immediate family had gathered and the preparations were completed. There were many people to greet-- aunts, uncles, cousins, and other, more distant relations. The hobbits seemed to keep very good track of who was related to who in what way, but for Feliciano it just got very confusing very quickly. He hoped he didn’t offend anyone by mixing things up.

Once the festivities began to pick up, Feliciano found himself sitting beside Adamanta Took, who insisted he call her ‘gammer’. He’d greeted Gerontius Took and wished him a happy birthday, but since he was the one being celebrated many hobbits wanted his attention so Feliciano thought it best to find something else to do. Belladonna and Bungo, once Adamanta had insisted that they go enjoy themselves while she looked after Feliciano, went off to dance.

After a while of observing Feliciano’s confused expression as he listened to her remarks of ‘I see someone let the Proudfoots into the ale early,’ ‘Ooh, Gerontius better have told Hildibrand to hide the best silver-- it’s always best to use the second-best set when the Bracegirdle’s are about,’ and ‘Oh sticklebats! I hope someone remembered to assign some of the younger ones to keep Adalgar Bolger and Otto Boffin from noticing each other,’ she pulled him onto her lap and announced, “Since you’re new to these parts, and clearly no one’s bothered to properly explain things to you, listen while your old gammer teaches you a thing or two. My daughter is a wonderful young hobbit, but these sorts of things tend to slip her mind, and while I am very fond of my son-in-law, he’s a Baggins. They are far too respectable to know the dirtier tittle-tattle.” Gammer said, pulling him nearer to her so he could properly hear her above the music and laughter. 

“For starters, you must be familiar with the most prominent hobbit-families of the Shire.” Gammer began, “These include both the Tooks and the Bagginses. You must also be familiar with the Brandybucks, the Boffins, the Bolgers, the Chubbs, the Grubbs, the Proudfoots, the Bracegirdles, and the Sackvilles.”

Feliciano nodded when she paused, as that seemed to be what she wanted him to do. Then she continued, “We the Tooks are seen as peculiar to many hobbits all over the Shire, but for all of that we are the richest, save for perhaps the Brandybucks. You would also have some familiarity with the Bagginses, of course, very respectable and dependable hobbits they are.”

Here Adamanta paused again, her eyes searching the crowd of party-goers. It didn’t take long for her to point a figure out, a hobbit in a very fine green coat dancing with a pretty hobbit woman that Feliciano realized was one of Miss Bella’s sisters. “That is Gorbadoc Brandybuck, son of Marmadoc Brandybuck and Adaldrida, originally a Bolger. Marmadoc is the current patriarch of that family, and Gorbadoc is his heir. The thing you need to know about the Brandybucks is that they are considered to be almost-outsiders, as they live outside of the Shire, between us and the Bree Land to the east. They’re strange hobbits, but not in a bad way. A little too trusting of those boats of theirs, but to each his own I suppose. If you want any news of the outside (though there is rarely much need for that), it would be best for you to ask a young Brandybuck.” she smiled a little fondly at the pair of dancers, and added, “My little Mirabella should be very happy married to Gorbadoc, she always did like traveling to visit Bree.” 

Gammer turned her attention back to Feliciano, “You heard me mention Adalgar Bolger and Otto Boffin earlier. A feud started up between those two years ago, my fool cousin Lavender Grubb was the start of it. While she was dithering about how she couldn’t decide, those two got into fight after fight, until finally the family gave Lavender a much needed talking-to and she chose Otto. Their son, Hugo, is a simple lad like his father and the rest of his clan, but my Donnamira’s smitten nonetheless, bless her heart. That sort of story, indecisiveness leading to trouble among the youth, isn’t uncommon amongst the Grubbs, though most of the time the young ladies or gentlehobbits as the case may be shake hands like good lads or lasses after it’s all said and done.”

“Bolgers are known to be quite gullible, so were I you I’d take everything they said with a grain of salt. However, they tend to hold very strong beliefs. Boffins are the ones to go to when in need of any sort of assistance, however they are not as well off as they used to be when I was a lass.” Adamanta said as he fought to keep his attention on her despite the activity all around them. What she was saying really was interesting, but his attention span wasn’t the best when there was so much music and laughter. 

“What about your family?” Feliciano asked, before hastily adding, “I mean the one you were born in? You haven’t mentioned them yet.”

Gammer nodded and gave another smile, “No, I suppose I haven’t. I was born a Chubb, up in the North Farthing, though the family is quite spread out. We’re networkers, make it our business to know the who’s-who and secrets no one else knows. Not that we’re gossips like those Bracegirdles, our knowledge is always much more dependable.”

Feliciano nodded-- it was always good to know where the reliable information could be found, although the opinion could be biased for all he really knew. However, he was inclined to believe what Adamanta said. 

“So what about the Bracegirdles?” North Italy asked, remembering Gammer had mentioned them earlier, something about sets of silver. 

Adamanta sniffed disdainfully, “Stubborn lot, they are. No matter how obvious it is that what they are doing is wrong, they’ll keep doing it. Always gossiping, and bragging about their nice silver sets, though they’ll go quiet if you mention yours have gone missing.” She pursed her lips, “The one good thing I could say about them is that they know how to save money. I’ve never seen or heard tell of them experiencing any sort of hard times despite the fact that they don’t have as high an income as the Tooks and Brandybucks, or even the Bagginses and Proudfoots.” 

“Now, the Proudfoots are some of the most well-learned hobbits you are likely to meet alongside the Bagginses, Tooks, and Brandybucks. Their library is extensive, or so I’ve heard, and I don’t doubt that. Many of them sound as if they’ve read a fair number of books. They also have a strong sense of duty. With how much pressure they seem to put on themselves and their family, it’s no wonder so many of them become a little too fond of ale as they age. You must also know that it is never wise to insult a Proudfoot, especially not in concern to their appearance. They tend to be quite vain, and are not quite as forgiving about such slights as many other hobbits.” Gammer warned. It was rather useful information to know who you could get away with insulting, since he seemed to do it so often even when it wasn’t on purpose. Though as he got better at disguising his insults no one seemed to realize when he was insulting them, so perhaps it was safe. 

Then again… Gammer had also alluded to their intelligence, so perhaps they  _ would  _ pick up on it. 

Adamanta Took continued, “Lastly are the Sackvilles. They’re quite new to their money and prestige, only becoming one of the most notable families a couple generations back. The Sackvilles are quite shrewd and adaptable. For all they don’t have such a firm power base, I’d still watch out for them were I you.” She seemed to have gone over the main families, but Feliciano had one more question for her as a figure caught his eye.

“Who’s that?” Feliciano asked, indicating a tall man in a pointed grey hat and robe of the same color with a chubby finger. There was something about the old man, a sort of power, that reminded Feliciano almost of a nation.

Adamanta Took sighed, and replied, “An old meddler.” Feliciano looked to her face, studying her somewhat irritated expression, “I’ll bet he’s encouraging my Gerontius to go off on some hare-brained adventure again! He’s one hundred and one today, much too old for such things, not to mention that he’s the Thain!” She let out a tittering noise, “Well, I suppose you must be introduced to him at any rate; he’s a family friend, and Belladonna always got along with him better than most of my children, so you would meet the old wizard either way. It would be best to ensure someone with proper hobbit-sense is there to oversee things. Come along, then. We’ll have to get it out of the way before he gets too into his fireworks.” 

Feliciano had to go at a quick trot to keep up with her brisk pace for all she was an older hobbit. Gammer marched right up to the wizard in grey, and cleared her throat. He turned, and smiled at the old hobbit, before his eyes found Feliciano.

“What’s this?” the wizard said in a kindly voice, “I was not aware that a man child was living in these parts.” 

“He’s only recently come. Belladonna and her husband Bungo Baggins took him in last September. They’ve yet to properly adopt him, but I don’t doubt it will happen. I’ll make sure of it if nothing else.” Adamanta replied, pushing Feliciano gently forward, “This is Feliciano. Feliciano, this is Gandalf.” 

Feliciano beamed up at the tall wizard, and said, “~Ve, it is so wonderful to meet you, Mr. Gandalf! Miss Bella was telling me about you, she said you knew magic! I don’t know many people who can do magic! Can you show me some time? Oh, and Miss Bella and Mr. Bungo also mentioned you made fantastico fireworks! I like fireworks, they’re so very lovely, don’t you think? Well, of course you do, you make them! I also heard you travel, what places have you seen? Have you met any elves? I would very much like to meet an elf, and maybe a dwarf if I get the chance.”

Gandalf laughed at his rapid-fire of eager questions, as Gammer admonished, “Now, Feliciano, let the man answer your first question before asking more.” Feliciano looked down with a touch of guilt-- he always forgot most people couldn’t keep up with his babble, that not everyone was Romano or Germany, or even Belladonna and Bungo as they’d begun to learn to keep up with the pace his mind ran at. 

“That’s quite alright.” Gandalf said, “It’s an exciting day, and I am sure I can keep up with a few questions.” 

Gammer gave Gandalf one of her looks, but didn’t argue and allowed Feliciano to continue his interrogation. Gandalf answered his questions with good humor, not seeming to become annoyed with the child, though he did have to stop Feliciano and ask him to repeat himself a few times. 

At last, Gammer tapped Feliciano’s shoulder and said, “Come along, then, that’s enough questions for one day.” When Feliciano’s face fell a little-- Gandalf was such a fascinating conversationalist!--, Gammer’s face softened and she added, “You’ll get to speak with him again another time. But wouldn’t you like to see those fireworks you were so excited about earlier?” 

Reminded of them, his face lit up and he nodded eagerly. He hadn’t seen fireworks in some time, not since America’s last party. The young nation seemed rather fond of fireworks, though Feliciano found he could not blame him for the fascination-- who didn’t like fireworks? Sure, the loud noise could be a bit scary when Feliciano wasn’t expecting it, especially the ones that sounded a bit like bombs, but otherwise they were gorgeous. The bursts of color in the night sky never got boring. 

Mr. Gandalf’s fireworks did not disappoint. Feliciano saw fireworks that burst into fluttering yellow butterflies, and others that became a pack of wolves, or a giant ship. The crowd gasped and sighed as one, all eyes transfixed on the art exploding into the sky (those that weren’t too occupied with their ale or the surplus of food available-- good thing about hobbits, there was always enough food and more). 

The party lasted long into the night. By the time Belladonna and Bungo decided to say their farewells and return home, he was nearly asleep on his feet. He managed to keep his eyes mostly open during the farewells, being sure to hug those he knew well enough and thank Gandalf, before they were off for Hobbiton again. Instead of walking, Bungo carried him in his arms. It did not take long for Feliciano to fall asleep, lulled by the steady beat of feet on the ground. 

He dreamed he was sitting on a rock, surrounded by grassy expanse and fog. The fog was not thick-- there was only enough to give a somewhat mystical effect to the scene before him as the light of the moon and stars reflected upon the mist. 

At the sound of a horse’s neigh, he turned to see a herd of wild horses tossing their heads and prancing not far away, evidently caught in play with one another. In their midst was a human-like figure, running among them with his curly pale brown hair streaming behind him with the wind. Feliciano could hear the sound of his laughter, which sounded almost like the whicker of one of the horses, but there was something distinctly more about it-- more free, more lively, perhaps. Something that Feliciano couldn’t quite place. 

As soon as Feliciano began to consider approaching the man (though he wasn’t sure he’d actually do it-- it would be such a shame to interrupt such a happy moment), the man turned to him. 

Feliciano’s breath stilled as the man stared into his eyes. The man’s-- no, not man, he was like the others who had been in his dreams, something more-- eyes were glowing green, so pale they were almost without color at all, like his hair. 

“Greetings, friend!” the nation called, his voice like the whistle of wind high in the mountains. “It’s about time you joined us! I was beginning to think you would not show at all! Well, don’t just sit there!” The unknown presence beckoned Feliciano forward, and Italy’s legs obeyed. 

The horses carefully approached him, their eyes looking him over as if inspecting him. Feliciano carefully reached out his hand to one, a shaggy little roan that seemed braver than the others, brave enough to thrust his nose forward, and then butt Feliciano with it’s shoulder. 

Feliciano carefully began to pet the creature. As he did so, he said, “~Ve, so who are you, then? I don’t think I remember you. If I should, I’m terribly sorry.” 

“It’s no bother. We never met. You would have heard of me as Magyar.” the fellow nation replied. Feliciano perked up-- he’d heard stories of Magyar from Miss Hungary, who was his daughter. “Unfortunately, the others said I didn’t have much time so I’ll have to be quick about my message.” Magyar let out a sigh at this, as if he was displeased with the time limit imposed upon him, “You’ve met… uh, what was he known by most recently? It’s hard to keep track of all those blasted names. I think… was it… Gandalf! That was it. So you met Gandalf.” Feliciano nodded as Magyar continued, “Good, good. I’m sort of like his superior, in a way, I suppose. The wizard should do nicely as an ally for you, you’ll need them once things start to pick up, and he’s some of the best trustworthy help you’ll find. You can trust him.” 

“I can? What for? I mean, I already like him quite a bit, but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be trusting him with. Am I not supposed to be trusting some people?” Feliciano asked, confused. He knew that the ex-nations he’d met in his dreams so far had been rather tight-lipped about what he was supposed to be preparing for, but he hoped to get at least  _ some  _ answers. 

Magyar paused a moment to consider his answer, his lips tilted down a little at one side, “Well, perhaps not quite yet. Of course, it is never a good idea to go around handing out secrets like party-favors, but… well, there will come a point in time where I’m afraid there won’t be many friendly ears. You will need as many allies as you can get, but don’t expect me to tell you every time you stumble upon someone trustworthy. You’ll have to use your own sense for these matters here on out. You’re grandfather says you’re smart that way-- people-wise. I never really was.” Magyar gave a wry smile at that. “Anyway, before I have to kick you out of the dream-- assuming you don’t have any other questions, mind…” he trailed off, his eyes looking out onto the horizon, “What’s my daughter like, these days? I haven’t seen her since she was a small child, and she’d be all grown up now, correct? If it’s not too much trouble-- well, it was mentioned that you knew her fairly well.” 

Feliciano smiled at the eager look on Magyar’s face, though the smile was tainted with a little sadness. How terrible it must be, not getting to watch your daughter grow up.

“Miss Hungary is a good friend. I saw her most when I was living at Mr. Austria’s house, but I still talk with her, sometimes… or I did.” Feliciano looked down, his smile fading from his face at the reminder that he would not see them again.

“Oh, damn, I’ve upset you, haven’t I?” Magyar stamped his foot, his expression becoming anxious, “You don’t have to tell me. Little boss man told me a few stories, sure they’re not as recent but they’ll do.” Little boss man?-- did he mean Holy Rome? “We are out of time, anyways. Boss lady’s going to kick my ass if I keep you any longer. Well, off you go.” Magyar gave a jaunty wave of his hand, before swinging up onto one of the horses. “We should meet again sometime, kid.” 

Feliciano smiled again and replied, “That would be fantastico! I’ll make pasta!” 

“Sure, make… whatever that is next time.” Magyar said, before his horse sped off at a gallop, the others following quickly behind. Feliciano watched as they faded into the distance. As soon as they were gone, the fog thicked until his vision was completely obscured. 

Gently, the mist carried him back into deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Magyar was one of the ones that puzzled us as far as how his personality would pan out, until suddenly he was being written and everything was perfect. He's another precious baby now. Well, Adamanta was fun, too, and it was nice to get a glimpse of everyone's favorite Disturber of the Peace. But Magyar.


	5. 1:00 AM, June 24 TA 2891

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back to haunt your worst nightmares-- we mean provide you with splendid reading material! We're so funny (not).
> 
> Chapter Playlist:   
> Autumn's Child - Peter Gundry (Bungo and Belladonna Baggins)  
> The Ashes Will Be Woken - Peter Gundry (Persia's theme)  
> Where I Belong - Adrian von Ziegler (The Greenhand/ Gamgee Clan)

**June 24, TA 2891**

_ Feliciano (Hobbiton):  _

 

For a week the Hill had been abuzz with activity as hobbits rushed to prepare for the upcoming Midsummer’s festival. Bungo spent much of the time helping his father Mundo organize the event, while Miss Bella split her time between keeping Feliciano occupied and helping wherever she could with preparations. Feliciano just tried his best to keep out of the way while still watching all of the activity, and helping where the adults would allow. He might not have been as good with organizing events and micromanaging people as Lovino, but he was still fairly decent given he’d had centuries of practice.

“Miss Bella, what are the festivals usually like?” Feliciano asked curiously one evening as the pair took their dinner on the front porch. Bungo had yet to return home, being busy with preparations since the festival would begin the next day. 

“I’m not quite sure about the standard for Hobbiton, having never been to one here myself.” Belladonna answered. “However, back in Tuckborough there were dances, shows, and fireworks. Some merchants set up little stalls, and there was always food and music. I don’t imagine things will be much different besides the small things, such as what merchants sell. I doubt they’ll sell Bree-bought wares at obscenely high prices in Hobbiton when you could get them much cheaper just going yourself.” Feliciano let out a little giggle at the tone of her voice. 

Feliciano replied, “~Ve, but they’re only trying to make a profit, si? Isn’t that how business works? You can sell products for as much as you like as long as enough people are willing to buy it, so someone must have bought it if they still offered them at the same prices every year.” 

“I suppose you have a point. Has Bungo been teaching you?” Belladonna asked with a smile. Feliciano nodded absently, though Bungo hadn’t done anything of the sort.

“~Ve, is Mister Bungo very good at things like that, then?” Feliciano questioned. 

Miss Bella replied, “Of course. The Bagginses are always very business-minded, and my Bungo is no exception.” Feliciano had known he’d been involved in business before, but he’d never given much thought to it since he always saw Bungo as the gentle, steady presence at home there to soothe his nightmares and calm his worst moods while he and Miss Bella were off exploring the forests and fields. 

“Oh. My aunt’s like that! Though she’s not calm like Mister Bungo.” Feliciano noted, thinking of Phoenicia and the trading empire she’d built across the Mediterranean and beyond in a time where the idea of such extensive trade was an entirely new concept. He wondered when he’d see her again-- she’d said she would visit. “She taught me and my brothers a few things, and she always said I was her best student.” Feliciano gave a proud grin at that, before it dropped a little into a wistful half-smile, “But my brothers were always so much better at the few lessons Grandpa ever gave us.” And it was true. Lovino had taken to administration and micromanagement like a duck to water. Antonio had been the one who learned combat best, who reveled in the thrill of battle and had the ability to inspire and lead. Francis was the diplomat, and could wield words and political intrigue better than any sword. Feliciano had learned some of that, later on, but when he was younger it hadn’t seemed so necessary. He liked business and pretty things-- art, music, jewels. He hadn’t seen the beauty in a well thought out political scheme until he was older, left to fend for himself once he was separated from Lovino. 

Belladonna smiled, “Well, we all have our strengths and our weaknesses. I was never good with that sort of thing. Too boring. I always spent my time running off with my sisters and skipping my lessons. I remember this one time when Mirabella had just become a tween and we threatened Isumbras to distract mother long enough for us to escape her lessons. If he said no we were going to tell mother about the time he nearly flooded the half the Smials. Then Mirabella and I convinced Donnamira to come with us and we went gallivanting off after some rumor of elves in the forest.”

“Did you find any elves?” Feliciano asked curiously. Elves sounded so interesting to him. They weren’t nations, and yet they lived so long. He’d never known any other creatures that were not nations to live so long. 

Belladonna nodded, “No, but Donnamira was scared by a frog. She shrieked so loud when it jumped onto her arm! For months afterwards Mirabella and I snuck frogs into her bed and clothes every time we found one.” 

Feliciano giggled and said, “Lovino and I used to do that to our big brother Francis all the time! There was this little kid, I think his name was… Arthur, and he always called Francis a frog which made him so mad! He fussed over his hair and clothes more than any girl I knew, even more than Mister Roderich!”

When Bungo arrived, they were still giggling over their stories. The exhausted-looking hobbit smiled and asked, “What has you two so happy?” 

“Frogs!” Feliciano chirped. 

Bungo only shook his head fondly, “I don’t suppose you saved any dinner for me?” Feliciano and Miss Bella quickly ushered him inside, where a plate of food awaited.

Despite how obviously tired Bungo had been coming home, he still sat with Feliciano until he fell asleep, reading him tales of elves, magic, and heroes. 

His eyes opened to a dark magnificent hall, lined with giant braisers. The floor looked as if it could be obsidian, though he wasn’t sure. Ahead of him he saw a throne wreathed in flame, casting dramatic shadows on the figure lounging upon it. The black she wore blended with her background, but the golden accents reflecting the firelight drew his gaze. The woman lazily toyed with a line of golden thread, barely sparing a moment to glance at him. 

“Huh. You’re just as short as always.” the woman said, her bored, drawling voice revealing her to be the Persian Empire. 

Feliciano wrung his hands nervously in front of him, his eyes darting about the grand room. Another dream, he knew, but every other time he’d never felt so intimidated as he did now. He was sweating, the temperatures sweltering. “It’s nice, here. The architecture is splendid. It must have taken some time to build this!” He stammered nervously.

Persia gave him a very flat look with her coal black eyes, her fingers going still, “It did not take as much time as appearances suggest, but I doubt you wish to waste your time discussing architecture, no matter how awe-inspiring.” Feliciano nodded, taking a moment to collect his thoughts and calm his heart. This was just a dream like the others, nothing to fear. The others had all been kind and helpful- if not necessarily forthcoming with information he could understand. Just a dream.

“What do you think it is most important that I know?” Feliciano asked finally. 

The ex-empire upon the obsidian throne considered the string twisted in her fingers. “The strings of fate are being tied around you as we speak. Much depends upon your actions, even now. I’d consider them carefully, were I you. Otherwise…” Her fingers stretched, snapping the strand and turning it into sand that fell upon the armrest beside her. “... The entire world will feel the consequences. You have direct control over fate. You can lead the world to her salvation, or to her doom.” Her sharp eyes darted to Feliciano, her fingers tracing paths through the sand on her armrest. “We have realized what an impossible situation this might prove, which is why we’ve offered our assistance to you, however it is ultimately up to you which way the balance shifts. We have come to care about the fate of this world. Don’t betray the faith every one of us has put in you.”

Feliciano wasn’t sure what to say, his face going pale. Everyone else had alluded to the hard task ahead, whatever it was, but they’d been encouraging. Persia was not. Now he feared that it would be too much to put on his shoulders. He couldn’t be trusted with the fate of the entire world resting solely upon his own shoulders. He was just one nation, and not a strong one. He might have had his grandfather’s legacy, but he’d never had his strength, no matter what anyone said. Germany was strong. Japan was strong. France, Spain, Prussia, England, Russia, even America, they were strong. Romano might have seemed weaker when he thought about what he was doing enough to be afraid, but Feliciano knew that in the shadows Romano ruled. North Italy was weak, always had been. 

“You can’t ask me to save the entire world when I know barely anything about it.” Feliciano finally managed to say, thinking with a stab of pain about the hobbits in the Shire. Of Belladonna and Bungo, of Gerontius and Adamanta, of the other Tooks and Bagginses, and all the other gentle creatures living in his new home. How was he supposed to keep them safe through whatever storm was on its way alone? 

_ Not alone.  _ He reminded himself,  _ Germany will be here soon. Then you won’t be alone.  _

Some of the tension eased from his shoulders. 

“I can, and I will.” Persia hissed, “You do not understand the position we are in. We  _ cannot  _ interfere directly in this. So we found someone who could, and your grandfather insisted it was you we could trust. I trust his judgement on these matters, so I am willing to believe him when he says you would be the best person for this. We had few other choices, and none of them were any better. Besides, you will learn plenty about this world if you open your eyes and pay attention. We granted you enough time for that. Don’t waste it.” He thought he saw a flare of orange in her eyes, but it was gone quickly enough that he might have imagined it. Deafening silence followed, Feliciano left speechless with uncertainty and fear. 

Persia broke the silence, leaning back and waving a hand at him in a dismissive shooing motion, “Go. She says that our time is up. I hope you learned what you desired to.” 

“Wait, who is ‘she’?” Feliciano asked, but it was too late. He was caught up in a whirlwind of sand, or perhaps it was ash, and he startled awake with a gasp for air. 

It took some time for him to calm his racing heart alone in the darkness, where the shadows closed in. Taunting him.  _ Alone, alone, always alone when it matters.  _

_ Not alone.  _ He argued, his hands clenched into fists.  _ I have Germany. I have Japan. I have Romano. I have Spain and France.  _

_ Then where are they?  _

He buried his face in his hands, catching his tears on his fingers. “Germany, where are you?” Feliciano said in a whisper, “I need you.” 

Silence was his only answer. 

He could not take the lonely, dark, suffocating silence. His greatest fear had always been to be alone, after Grandpa Rome had left, Romano had been taken, and then Holy Rome had promised to come back only he never did. 

Feliciano got to his feet and allowed his feet to lead him down the familiar path to Bungo and Belladonna’s room, just down the hall from his. As always, they were there to hold him close and soothe his fears. 

The next morning, there was no place for tears. It was the Midsummer’s Festival, after all, and Mister Bungo had worked so hard on it! There would be music, and dancing, and laughter-- no place for his worries. 

They traveled down to the Party Tree after breakfast, dressed in their finest. The party had only just begun, but it quickly picked up. 

He soon found himself with the other children from the area, none of which he knew. Hobson Gamgee was a relative of their gardener, visiting from some other part of the Shire, but the young hobbit was only six years old and very shy of this tall stranger. The other two fauntlings were both little girls, Sorrel Hornblower and Lalia Clayhanger, ages nine and eleven as they informed him quite proudly. The other children were too young to be away from their mothers, or too old to want to play with the younger fauntlings. 

The first thing Hobson said to him, after a long while of merely staring up at him with fascination, was, “You’re  _ tall.  _ Are you sure you’re only five?” 

“I’m actually very short for my age, you know? Men are usually much taller!” Feliciano replied with a giggle, “I know someone who is 180 centimeters tall!” 

_ “One-hundred and eighty?!”  _ Lalia demanded incredulously, “How does anyone grow so tall? Do they have to eat fourteen meals a day so they can grow that fast? Wouldn’t you just outgrow your skin if you grew that tall?” 

Feliciano shook his head, “Nope, we normally only eat three meals.”

“How come they don’t starve with only three meals?” Hobson asked, finally brave enough to step closer to Feliciano.

“I don’t know. Personally I like having seven meals a day. It means you can have pasta seven times a day instead of just three! Maybe there just wasn’t enough food so Men got used to having less.” Feliciano replied.

Lalia wrinkled her nose, “No wonder they’re always so skinny.”

“I always thought Men were just stretched out so they could be that tall.” Sorrel commented, “But only three meals a day is sad. What do they do with all the extra time when they aren’t eating?” 

“Boring things, like  _ work.”  _ Feliciano replied with mock-disgust, though he was smiling. Germany was always working. “But that also leaves more time for other fun things, too. Like playing.” 

Lalia sniffed-- that seemed to be her opinion on Men and their schedules-- and then said, “I think we should play! I’ll be the hero, a mighty warrior!” She held her hand up in the air, as if brandishing a sword, “All should fear my blade!” 

Feliciano grinned and play-tackled Sorrel, who began to giggle. Feliciano roared, and then announced, “I am the fearsome monster keeping the lovely Princess Sorrel captive! You will never make it past me!” Sorrel squeaked, squirming in his arms. 

“But…” Hobson asked, a little frown on his face, “What does that make me?”

“Why, you’re the brave gardener protecting the Princess and making sure I don’t eat her long enough for the Hero to come challenge me!” Feliciano answered, setting Sorrel back down so she could flee and hide behind the much shorter Hobson, giggling all the way. Hobson’s frown quickly morphed to a proud grin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your time.  
> ... Any guesses as to what is in store for Feliciano?


	6. 1:00 AM, June 28 TA 2891

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the first glimpse of Buckland and Bree. And, of course, another precious ancient to impart their almighty wisdom that sounds a bit like nothing. Or in this case...  
> Well, you'll have to read that far to find out.
> 
> Chapter Playlist:   
> Unseelie Court - Derek and Brandon Fiechter (The Brandybuck Clan)  
> Centaurs of Jagged Rock - Brandon Fiechter (The Golden Horde's theme)   
> Bad Apple - Ashe and Rockleetist (Feliciano/ North Italy's theme)

**June 28, TA 2891**

_ Feliciano (Buckland):  _

 

After having heard so often how the Bucklanders were almost-outsiders, he was surprised by how similar it seemed to the rest of the Shire. Well, there were differences-- mainly the higher concentration of Bounders, a few more buildings above ground, and a slightly more watchful feel to the place-- but other than that it seemed much the same as the rest of the Shire, with the green hills, bright colors, and happy fauntlings running under the legs of the older hobbits. He supposed in darkness the differences between Buckland and Hobbiton were more noticeable, but in morning’s daylight it seemed a perfectly cheery, pleasant place. 

“Bella! There you are!” shouted a voice. It was who Feliciano guessed to be Mirabella. She was certainly pretty enough, with the almost fae-like (or so it was said) looks associated with the Tooks, and a beauty similar to Belladonna’s. Miss Mirabella’s smile was wide as she eagerly waved to the family of three to gain their attention. Belladonna was quick to embrace her sister, as Feliciano hung back with Bungo. 

“You remember Feliciano?” Belladonna asked, motioning to the ex-nation.

Mirabella looked at him and smiled, “Of course. Hello, Feliciano, Bungo.” her gaze returned to Belladonna, “Are you sure you want to come along, Bella? I’m grateful that you offered, but if you’d rather stay home with your family, we won’t mind. We can find someone else. I wouldn’t want you to have to leave your family behind.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Belladonna replied, “We’re already here, and there’s not that much time left before the wedding unless you plan to postpone. Besides, I’m bringing Feliciano with us.” 

Mirabella and the hobbit beside her (Feliciano assumed it was Gorbadoc, Mirabella’s fiancee), who hadn’t said anything yet, looked surprised. 

“Feliciano is a little… young for a trip to Bree, is he not?” Gorbadoc asked, eying Feliciano dubiously.

Belladonna replied, “We aren’t in that much of a rush, Gorbadoc, and I want to see if we can find his family, or someone who will recognize him.”

“~Ve, I think it will be fun!” Feliciano commented. He wasn’t too worried about keeping up, since he’d travelled great distances much faster before, even when his body had been as young as it was now. That wasn’t even getting into the training Germany had more or less shoved him through. Besides, with the hope of seeing or hearing word of Germany, he would not tire so easily. Bree was supposed to be a settlement of both men and hobbits, and a popular place to rest during travels. It was the place he was most likely to find Germany without many weeks, or months, of travel though more dangerous areas. Bree was not as safe as the Shire, but it was still quite peaceful. After all, the Shire had a peace that Feliciano had once feared impossible due to his upbringing amidst the constantly warring nations in Europe. 

Gorbadoc still appeared unconvinced, but Mirabella smiled and said, “He’s a Took, alright. Well, we should be quick about our breakfast so we can make a decent start today.” 

The four hobbits and Feliciano were soon seated for breakfast, Mirabella and Gorbadoc discussing their plans while Belladonna and Bungo murmured quietly to one another. Bungo would not be accompanying them, as he had things to look after in Hobbiton, but Feliciano could see that he ached to come with them, even if he didn’t seem to like the idea of an adventure.

When it was time to go, Feliciano chattered at Miss Mirabella while he waited for Belladonna and Bungo to exchange farewells. Once they were done he leaped into Bungo’s arms in a goodbye hug. The adventure sounded exciting, but he would miss the steady, calming presence of Bungo. 

“I’ll miss you.” Feliciano said as he was set back down to the ground, “But we won’t be too long, don’t be sad. We’ll be back before you know it!” His words brought a smile to Bungo’s face. 

“Goodbye, Feliciano. Take care of Belladonna for me, will you?” Bungo said quietly. Feliciano nodded. 

They left after that, Bungo watching them go. Feliciano waved to the two Bucklanders guarding the gate cheerfully while the adults chuckled. The day was warm and bright, and the hope of seeing Germany had him pushing aside the doubts that had been swirling around his head. This was no day to worry and fear. 

They would spend nine leisurely days on the road, stopping regularly for meals and to rest. Feliciano never showed signs of tiring, staring off into the horizon and wondering if perhaps Germany was just over the next hill, looking for him. At this point Germany had probably found his way into this world, after all. If Feliciano had come here without even trying (and a lot of help from the Ancients), Germany would surely have found a way by now to follow him. At least that was what he’d convinced himself, leaving no room in his mind for other possibilities. 

“Miss Bella?” Feliciano asked one night in a hushed voice. “I understand why we are going to Bree, at least the two of us, but why are Miss Mira and Mister Gorbadoc going when it’s so close to their wedding?” 

Belladonna replied, “Oh, right, I suppose you wouldn’t know. Well, it’s tradition. All adventuring Tooks and Brandybucks often go on a ‘last adventure’ before getting married. When it’s an adventuring Took and Brandybuck getting married, they go together, chaperoned of course. Which is part of the reason we’re here.” 

“So did you do this before marrying Mister Bungo?” Feliciano questioned.

“Of course.” Belladonna replied, “Bungo’s family had been convinced I had run off on him. They were so surprised when we told them we were getting married!” she laughed a little, her eyes staring up at the stars. 

That night Feliciano dreamed. He was in a rocky clearing, trees surrounding it on all sides. The sky was dark. A cold wind blew through, rustling the leaves, as he wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. He waited for someone to appear as they had every other dream, but there was no voice, no footsteps. 

And then: “Do I  _ have  _ to?” 

Feliciano turned, peering into the darkness. Behind the treeline was a blur of shadows and dark shapes that he could not decipher. 

“No, no, I’m going, you don't have to cut my hair again! It’s already short enough!” the voice complained in an almost-whine. 

The shadows moved, and a form stepped clear of the trees. Feliciano’s eyes widened as he took in the appearance of what looked to be a centaur from his old legends. The centaur was clearly pouting, and there was a slouch to his upper-half. His hair was dark-- Feliciano couldn’t tell the exact color in this light-- and it almost brushed his shoulders. His dark eyes were sharp. Feliciano could see lines of muscles with the light provided by the moon, but they were leaner than someone who was built along the lines of Germany. 

“Crazy woman.” the centaur muttered, one of his hooves kicking the dirt under his feet. 

“Who were you talking to?” Feliciano asked, peering around the centaur to see if there was anyone else. “And what was that about your hair?”

The centaur peeked up at him from under his bangs, and replied, “Varda always cuts my hair. Says it isn’t proper to have it long.” he let out a noise like a snort, shaking his head, “She does it to the little boss man too, but he doesn’t mind. Ulmo is lucky, he can just hide under water for a few years whenever she’s in the mood.” 

“Who…?” Feliciano said, confused. Varda? Ulmo? Why did those names seem familiar? Maybe he’d come across them in a book or something. 

The centaur regarded him with a look of ice, before he finally replied, “Right. You’re clueless. Let’s just get this over with. What wisdom would you like me to share with you, oh intelligent one?” Feliciano hadn’t heard this much sarcasm in someone’s tone since the last time he’d accidentally spilled pasta sauce all over Lovino’s desk and ruined a day’s worth of work. 

Feliciano was so taken aback that the first question he thought of was the one that popped out of his mouth, “So why are you, Grandpa Rome, and everyone else here?”

“Well,” replied the centaur, staring at his fingernails, “One day little boss man got an idea. He shared this great idea with your grandfather, who took it and ran with it, summoning a group of us. By the time we’d gotten our affairs in order boss lady had hijacked the plan. Anyway, so then we’re here.” 

That explained… basically nothing. 

He decided to go with a safer question, “Since everyone so far has been an ex-nation, are you one too? Who are you?” 

The centaur huffed and looked to the sky, yelling, “He’s asking pointless questions, so can I go  _ now?”  _ He paused as Feliciano stared at him in concern. The centaur sighed, returning his gaze to Feliciano. “Okay, fine. To you, I would have represented the people known as the Mongols. There’s all of your questions answered, so good- _ bye.”  _

And Feliciano was suddenly sitting up and wide awake. There was no transition; it was quite jarring. He blinked a few times, trying to adjust himself to the dawn light. 

“That was confusing.” Feliciano said quietly. What an understatement. He’d heard tales of the Mongols (he’d never met him in person), but none of them had painted the picture of the petulant teenage centaur he’d met. 

“Are you alright?” he jumped, not having realized that Mirabella was awake. 

He jumped again when he heard Belladonna ask, “Feliciano?” realizing he had taken too long to answer the question. Now both hobbit women were staring at him in concern. 

“Mi dispiace,” he said, rattled enough to revert to his native tongue without thinking about it, “I’m alright.” 

“Bad dream?” Belladonna asked sympathetically, coming to sit beside Feliciano. 

He shook his head, “No, just… strange.” And it had been strange. 

“Well, you should try to go back to sleep. We should be making it to Bree tomorrow.” Miss Bella said, running a hand through his hair, “Sweet dreams.” 

When he fell back to sleep, his dreams were filled with pasta, dancing, and laughter. Thus, he was in high spirits when he woke the next morning, though he noticed that Belladonna appeared less well-rested. 

After breakfast, as they set out for the last stretch until they reached their destination, Feliciano turned to Belladonna and asked, “Miss Bella? I was wondering if you know who the names Varda and Ulmo belong to.” It was more idle curiosity than anything, and he doubted she would know them.

So it surprised him when she replied, “Why, yes-- they’re like, well, gods, I suppose. I don’t know much about them, you’d have to ask elves for that. From what I know, Varda is the Queen of the Valar, and the elves seem to hold her in highest esteem. And Ulmo rules over the sea, and rivers, and such. Hobbits don’t know much about either, honestly the only one of the Valar we really know about is our Green Lady of Two Faces.”

“Oh.” he said. Was Ulmo just another name for Carthage? The Mongols had mentioned that this Ulmo would hide underwater for a few years to avoid haircuts, and given Carthage’s long hair and their underwater meeting, it seemed likely. As to Varda, he had no idea. As for the Green Lady that Belladonna had mentioned, well, he didn’t recall any of the female Ancients wearing any sort of green. The closest would have been Byzantium, but she had been in blues, and she didn’t seem to fit what he knew of hobbits. 

But his curiosity was satisfied, at least for the time being, so he didn’t ask anything more about it. 

They arrived in the town of Bree at around three that afternoon, under bright sunlight and warmth. Belladonna took his hand and led him as they made their way though, Feliciano looking around at the town that seemed rather ordinary, aside from the fact that he could see all sorts of people. There were men, hobbits, and he even spotted a few beings he thought were dwarves! He very nearly took off after a presumably dwarvish trader to bombard him with questions before Belladonna tightened her hold on him. With a pleading look, he managed to secure a promise of being allowed to talk to the dwarf later. 

They stopped to purchase rooms for the next week, and then Belladonna dragged him around town, asking anyone and everyone if they had heard word of anyone looking for a child named Feliciano. Meanwhile, Feliciano searched for any trace of blonde hair that might indicate that Germany was there, or even a trace of a curl like his own. Or, perhaps, some sign of Japan, if Germany had gotten his help. A sign of any nation, really. 

But there was nothing. Not the first day. Not the second day. Not any day after that. 

Italy was truly alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your time! It is appreciated.


	7. 1:00 AM, September 22 TA 2891

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and enjoy!
> 
> Chapter Playlist:   
> Seelie Court - Derek and Brandon Fiechter (The Took Clan)  
> The Red Dawn - BrunuhVille (Germania's theme)

**September 22, TA 2891**

_ Feliciano (Tookland): _

 

Feliciano played most often with his Took cousins in the early years. There were many of them, and they were more than happy to accept him as one of their own, seeing his size and quirks as fascinating but fun rather than something to gawk at from a safe distance. He was different to them, but not alien. 

“I’m bored of all the normal stories, Larkspur!” little Flambard complained as they all sat in the grass one autumn day-- a very special autumn day. Last year on this day was when Feliciano had first arrived in the Shire, and he was keenly aware of it. 

Larkspur was the oldest among them at sixteen, holding the young Sigismond in her arms, who was only a baby with big eyes. She sighed and replied, “Well, I only know those stories. Why doesn’t someone else tell the stories?” The others exchanged looks at her suggestion, none of them seeming to know of any new stories, either. 

It was Fortinbras, the oldest after Larkspur, who voiced his own quiet suggestion, “Why not Feliciano? Do you know any new stories?” 

“~Ve, me? I suppose I do know a few stories you wouldn’t have heard before.” he said after a moment of consideration. His words drew five pairs of eyes to him (baby Sigismond was too busy playing with Larkspur’s curls to care). They each looked expectant, so he smiled and considered what story he could tell. 

It took him a moment, but he decided on a classic: Little Red Hat, or as it was called more recently, Little Red Riding Hood. 

“Once, there was an old woman who had a granddaughter people called Little Red Hat, for the red hat she wore. One day they were both in the field when the old woman said that she was going to go home, and asked for Little Red Hat to bring her soup later that day.” Feliciano began.

“After a while Little Red Hat set out for her grandmother’s house in the woods. On her way she met a wolf, who said, “Hello, Little Red Hat. Where are you going?” Little Red Hat said that she was going to her grandmother’s to take her some soup, because she did not know that the wolf was a wicked wolf. The wolf offered to come along, and asked what way she was going to take. Little Red Hat replied that she was going to take the path across the stones, so the wolf said he would take the other path. Then they went their separate ways.” 

Adalgrim leaned forward and asked, “What happened next?” 

“Well, on the way to her grandmother’s Little Red Hat came to a meadow where beautiful flowers grew, so she picked as many as she could carry. Meanwhile, the wolf hurried on his way, and he arrived at the house before Little Red Hat. He went inside… and killed the grandmother, ate her up, and climbed into her bed!” Feliciano announced, as the other children gasped. “He also tied her intestine onto the door in place of the latch string, and placed her blood, teeth, and jaws in the kitchen cupboard.” 

Flambard wrinkled his nose and asked, “Why would he do that?”

“I’m about to tell you.” Feliciano replied, smiling at the looks of horror on their faces. “The wolf had barely climbed into bed when Little Red Hat arrived and knocked at the door. “Come in” called the wolf, making his voice sound like the grandmother’s. Little Red Hat tried to open the door, but noticed that she was pulling on something soft, so she called out, “Grandmother, this thing is so soft!” and the wolf replied “Just pull and keep quiet. It is your grandmother’s intestine!” But Little Red Hat didn’t hear, and asked for the wolf to repeat what he said, so he then repeated, “Just pull and keep quiet!” So Little Red Hat opened the door, and went inside.” 

“When she was inside, she said, “Grandmother, I am hungry.” So the wolf told her to go to the kitchen cupboard, where she would find rice. Little Red Hat went to the cupboard as asked, and took the teeth out. “Grandmother, these things are very hard!” she called, to which to wolf replied, “Eat and keep quiet! They are your grandmother’s teeth!” “What did you say?” asked Little Red Hat, because again she did not hear what the wolf said. So the wolf repeated, “Eat and keep quiet!” Little Red Hat ate the teeth, and later said, “Grandmother, I’m still hungry.” So the wolf instructed her to go back to the cupboard at take out the chopped meat. Little Red Hat did as asked, and took her grandmother’s jaws out. “Grandmother, this is very red!” “Eat and keep quiet. They are your grandmother’s jaws!” “What did you say?” “Eat and keep quiet!”” Feliciano said, changing his voice to a high-pitched young girl’s, and then to a gravelly wolf-voice, while his audience was white, all besides Forsythia, who listened eagerly.

“A little while later, Little Red Hat said, “Grandmother, I’m thirsty.” So the wolf told her to look in the cupboard, where she would find wine. Little Red Hat went to the cupboard and found the blood, “Grandmother, this wine is very red!” “Drink and keep quiet. It is your grandmother’s blood!” “What did you say?” “Just drink and keep quiet!” A little while later, Little Red Hat said, “Grandmother, I’m sleepy.” So the wolf told Little Red Hat to get into the bed with him. So she did, and looked hard at the wolf, and noticed that something was wrong. “Grandmother, you are so hairy!” The wolf replied, “That comes with age.” “Grandmother, you have such long legs!” “That comes from walking.” the wolf replied. “Grandmother, you have such long hands!” “That comes from working.” said the wolf. “Grandmother, you have such long ears!” “That comes from listening.” said the wolf. “Grandmother, you have such a big mouth!” “That comes from eating children!” shouted the wolf, and bam!” the children jumped with fright, “He swallowed Little Red Hat with one gulp!” Flambard began to cry. 

Forsythia smiled and bounced from excitement. “That was interesting! Tell another! Tell another!” 

“ _ No _ !” shouted Larkspur, her face as white as the others.

“I’m never asking you for another story again. That was scary.” Fortinbras said quietly, holding onto Adalgrim who looked a little green.

Feliciano tilted his head, “~Ve, it is? I always thought it was a good story. My friend Germany always adds a woodsman into the story who comes and cuts Little Red Hat and the grandmother out of the wolf, and he says that he’s not supposed to make Little Red Hat drink her grandmother’s blood. But the story is boring without the guts!” 

They refused to allow him to tell any more stories for the rest of the day, though Forsythia made him promise to tell her more later. Of course, he was more than willing to agree.

That night, once more he dreamed. It was dark, so dark he could not see.

“-- at least have spiced the place up a little?! It’s all so depressing! And could you turn on a light, how is anyone supposed to see a thing in here!” He knew that voice.

“Grandpa Rome? Are you out there?” Feliciano called into the blackness. 

Rome’s voice was there again, “He can’t even see us, turn on a light! You must allow my darling grandson to look upon my splendor once more! Besides, talking about such serious and depressing business in the dark makes me feel queasy!” 

“Fine.” came another familiar voice. As a dim grey light flickered into existence (though he could not see its source), he saw the forms of Grandpa Rome and his frequent companion in the old days, who was sometimes called Germania. Romano had always speculated he was the Visigothic tribes, but Feliciano was not sure. Looking closely at him, Feliciano thought there was more grey in his eyes than the last time he’d seen him. 

Grandpa Rome smiled as Feliciano ran forward to hug him. But he quickly broke away, looking at the pair of them.

Grandpa Rome said, “It’s so nice to see you again, look at how happy you are this time!”

“You aren’t even supposed to be here.” Germania said, “You know she’s going to yell at you for this, and I’m not going to distract her this time so you can get away.”

“It’s my grandson! I think the silly rules can be bended to allow me to see him. You were the only one who would allow me to come along to see him.” Rome replied, waving away the concerns of the blonde. 

Germania scoffed, “I didn’t  _ allow  _ you to come. You forced your way along. I should have stopped you as Vaire did when you tried this on her.” 

“No, you shouldn’t have!” Rome wailed, “You know what she did?! She tied my foot to one of Orome and Lorien’s horses (I can never tell which one belongs to whom, I think they swap or share them to confuse me!), and sent it charging! It really hurt! My pretty face was covered in mud! Lorien finally came to save me, but he left me in a ditch and took care of the horse! The horse! He gave all of the food he had to that horse, too! I was hungry, you know. I had to go find Este to help me. She gloated for hours!” Germania crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. 

Feliciano looked between them, confused. “What?”

“Oh, right, we don’t have that much time!” Rome said, his attention returning to Feliciano, “Well, you must have questions, still, or something you wish to discuss.” 

“I guess. What is with these dreams? They are real, right? And why do you have a time limit?” Feliciano asked.

Grandpa Rome said, “Of course they’re real! We can do things like this, now, you know! I mean, dreams are Lorien’s specialty, really, but it’s possible for them to be real. But unfortunately they can’t last too long or we’ll exhaust our power.” 

“And what he means by that,” Germania added when he noticed Feliciano’s confused look, “Is that we have been using most of our energy to get you here and keep things running. We’ll need the rest of it for later, so we have to save as much as possible. So, uh, try not to die.”

“Die? But I can’t--” Feliciano asked, but his question was interrupted. 

“And for that matter, try not to ask for our help too much quite yet.” Germania finished. 

Before Feliciano could ask him to expand upon what he’d be asking them for, or how he would since he never saw them for long, Rome popped in. “Yes, yes, but we do have to see him. We all agreed that it was important for us to explain what we could and let him know that we’re here, so you can’t complain that it uses too much energy. You and Varda won’t shut up about  _ rationing our energy!  _ It’s no fun! You won’t let me do  _ anything. _ ” 

“You know how important saving our power is! This plan is our only hope. We cannot afford to ruin it! You knew what to expect, you came up with the plan.” Germania argued. 

“Well, yes, but I didn’t think you’d be so crazy about it! I thought everything would turn out alright. Besides, we have plenty of time to save up our energy.” Rome replied, waving the other’s concerns away. 

Germania shook his head, “You never know when accidents might happen. None of us can foresee exactly what might happen. What if we must act early? You know that danger is coming even before things even start. It is not so far away that we can waste what we have. Power takes time to regenerate.” 

“Yes, yes, I  _ know.”  _ Rome grumbled, before he lowered his voice to say, “You’ve certainly told me often enough.”

“But have you listened?” Germania countered.

Feliciano finally tired of listening to their arguing in silence, and interrupted, “Excuse me, but, well, I was wondering what you are saving up your power for.” 

“A continuation of what has already been set in place. A sort of safety net, if you will, though we do not know how long we can maintain it without the entire world unraveling.” Germania answered. How ominous of him.

“You’re making everything sound so dark and depressing! You know, you didn’t used to be so bad until you started pronouncing everyone’s doom! You really need a new hobby, my friend. Or perhaps you’re just lonely! I can help you with that! Anything to get you to stop being so gloomy all the time!” Rome exclaimed. 

Germania huffed, “I’m not lonely. You just aren’t taking this seriously.”

“I  _ am  _ taking this seriously.” Rome replied, actually sounding less flippant and more… well, actually serious, “You know I am. Why else would I have suggested this? Do you think I brought my grandson into the middle of this lightly? Do you think I don’t know what is coming? You know I was the one who was always on the front lines. I know what our enemy is capable of. I know what he can do to even the strongest. I have seen it. I did not want Feliciano, my precious youngest grandson, in this. But I suggested him, because I knew his heart was strongest. If anyone could hold out against the darkness that threatens everything, it is him. But I know that it will not be easy, not for any of us. I know that the only way we will hold out is to keep our spirits up.”

The blonde who looked so much like Germany that Feliciano ached allowed his expression to soften and said, “I’m sorry, my friend. I know.” 

Rome took a deep breath, and looked to Feliciano. He drew him into another hug and said, “I’m afraid we are almost out of time. I am sorry. But I have one last thing for you to remember. Keep your spirits high, because I am always here for you, whatever should happen. To despair is to let the enemy win. But your heart is like mine. It is mighty. Show your might, and the enemy will learn to fear you. You will triumph.” 

As the light started to darken, he heard his grandfather say, “Goodbye, my mighty grandson.” 

When he awoke in his bedroom, late predawns pale light streaming through his window, Feliciano smiled and whispered, “Goodbye, Grandpa Rome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Feliciano, forgotten by his own grandfather! For shame!... Well perhaps he deserves it for traumatizing those children.   
> Thank you for your time!


End file.
